


A deliberate madness

by redsnake05



Category: HEYER Georgette - Works, The Masqueraders - Georgette Heyer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-24
Updated: 2011-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-27 23:20:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/301166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redsnake05/pseuds/redsnake05
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robin knows that this can be only an interlude, or a dream, but he desires it all the same. He's the Prince's man to command.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A deliberate madness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Measured_Words](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured_Words/gifts).



"You've taken this to heart," said John gruffly as he helped Robin take off his coat. "Aye, and you'll be getting yourself into a welter of trouble I don't doubt."

"Enough of your lectures," replied Robin.

We could leave, get back to Perth where Miss Prue is waiting," John continued, as if he hadn't heard.

"I said enough. The Prince is here, and we stay with the Prince." Robin unbuttoned his waistcoat and handed it to John after he had put away the coat. He half expected John to say more, but the servant was silent as he went about cleaning and organising. Robin wished he could silence his own mind as easily. He was plagued by doubts; all of them scolding him in a voice reminiscent of his manservant, telling him that he'd tumbled into love with a dream, and he should escape now while he still could.

Robin looked round the room; small, but at least it was clean and his, and he was safe for tonight. Sitting down, he tugged off his boots. A room like this had been more than he'd hoped for as he'd fallen back with the regiment from Perth. He had fought hard to make it a retreat, not a rout. Since then, they'd been riding for a coast; a small group, no more than seven of them in attendance on the Prince. Faith, it was very nearly the maddest adventure he'd been on, but he found nothing to entertain him in the reflection.

A soft knock on the door sounded and John answered it, letting in one of the Prince's servants with obvious reluctance. Robin was amused. John could not have communicated his disapproval of this whole affair more comprehensively. He sobered as the servant handed him a note.

Scanning it, he said, "Faith, but the Prince has need of me. Will he mind me in shirtsleeves, John?"

"I couldn't say," said John, at his most repressive. Robin smiled again, concealing how his heart had started to beat faster.

"I attend the Prince now," he told the servant. Padding to the door in his stocking feet, he glanced over his shoulder at his henchman. "Do not wait up for me, John," he said, "I doubt not you'll need time to prepare your lecture for the morning."

He closed the door on whatever his servant's indignant rejoinder was, slipping down the hallways to the large front room. He ignored the fact that John's reply might not have been indignant, but would have been concerned. Pushing aside thoughts of John's likely disapproval of Robin getting himself further embroiled with royalty, he knocked on the door, entering at the soft word of command.

"Your Highness desires me?" Robin asked, letting himself in and bowing low before Prince Charles.

He straightened, observing the way the Prince's eyes lingered on him. Coming here was madness, he knew, yet he'd walked into it deliberately. He'd sought out this madness, but that did not help his nerves. His mouth was dry, and his heart still beat quickly. He'd guessed this, soon after Prince Charles had landed and they'd been introduced, but he'd not hoped to find himself here. Prince Charles had need of comfort; that's what Robin had heard, though he doubted not it was kept deadly secret. He'd only found out after very discreet enquiry.

"Mr Lacey, I doubt not it is monstrous late, but I find sleep impossible," he said. Robin bowed again, moving to take the seat Prince Charles directed him to. A servant brought him a glass of wine and bowed himself out, leaving them alone together.

Robin sipped his wine and wondered how this would play out. He was no stranger to the art of seduction, but the Prince was different. Robin usually approached seduction as an agreeable game, but this was no playing matter and he wasn't sure how to proceed. He found himself wanting to please his Prince more than he'd cared about his previous lovers, and it made him uncertain.

"Sometimes, I doubt we'll reach the coast," said Prince Charles, "though we must be close now. Do you know?"

"A matter of some ten miles, I believe, though we may have to ride a more circuitous path. I have faith in our arrival," Robin said.

The Prince finished his wine and Robin got up to pour more. As he stood by the Prince's chair, bottle in hand, Charles reached out and grasped his wrist. Looking up, Robin met his gaze. There was no mistaking what he wanted.

"It's hard to find good men like you, Lacey," said Charles. "Robin."

Robin put down the bottle slowly and sank to one knee in front of the Prince. "It's my earnest desire to serve you well, Prince," he replied.

The Prince stood, letting go of Robin's wrist and cupping his jaw instead. Robin felt his fingers tremble, and some of his nerves left him. Prince Charles was a man, just like anyone else. He looked up at the Prince.

"Come, stand up," the Prince said. "I think you'd better call me Charles."

"Charles," said Robin. He licked his lips. Charles's hand slid round the back of Robin's neck, pulling him closer and urging him to lift his face. Opening his mouth, Robin gave himself up to the kiss, his own hands coming up to rest on Charles's shoulders.

Charles kissed softly at first, almost tenderly. Robin, used to more frenzied encounters, turned the kiss a little harder, chasing Charles's mouth with his own, biting softly on his lower lip. Charles gasped and drew him even closer, fingers tightening on his skin. Robin's hands dropped to the belt of Charles's dressing gown and lingered there. Breaking the kiss, he looked at Charles questioningly.

"Faith, but you're a forward thing," said Charles, a smile transforming his face and making him seem younger and more approachable. "I might have known you'd be. Yes, undress me."

Smiling back, Robin busied himself with the ties and did not answer. He was forward, was he? Charles should see how forward he could be.

"I can tell you are plotting something," said Charles, shrugging out of the robe and standing before Robin in shirtsleeves. "What devilish plan do you have in mind for me?"

"If I tell you, I lose the element of surprise," said Robin, surprised at the light-heartedness of his Prince. He was more than happy to go along with this gaiety. Charles grasped Robin's waist with one hand, pressing the other against the front of his breeches. He smiled as Robin stifled a gasp.

"I think I have found your surprise," he said. Robin laughed, breaking off in the middle to moan as Charles squeezed his hardening cock.

"You said I should undress you," Robin said.

"Am I stopping you?" asked Charles. "You have such an ardent desire to follow my orders?" He continued his explorations and Robin licked his lips and forced himself to speak. To speak truth, he'd seldom felt the desire to follow any man's orders, but this was different, and not just because Charles was a Prince. Charles had a commanding way with him, and Robin felt sure that he would make it worth Robin's while to obey.

"Faith, I think you're a man who likes your own way," he said.

Charles smiled and kissed him again, moving both hands to Robin's back, dragging him forward and against him. Robin did not wish to let Charles win all the tricks; he fought for control of this kiss. Hands in Charles's hair, disordering his wig, he held his face still and kissed until they were breathless.

Robin felt Charles's hands untucking his shirt at the back, his fingertips on bare skin. It felt electric, making him gasp against Charles's mouth. Charles broke the kiss, fingers coming up to tug at the knot of Robin's cravat. Robin pulled back and undid it, casting it aside before turning his attention to Charles, who had just discarded his wig.

"No, I've changed my mind," said Charles. "Undress yourself." Robin looked at him, seeing the desire writ on his expression. He shivered inwardly, his own passion making him impatient. He hastily undid a few buttons and pulled his shirt off over his head before rolling off his stockings. Fingers on the laces of his breeches, he paused. Charles was still fully dressed, watching him still with that hungry look.

"Keep going," Charles said. Robin loosened his laces. He slowly stripped off the rest of his clothes, standing naked before the Prince. Charles beckoned him closer. Robin had lost control of this seduction, but he didn't mind. "Now you can undress me," Charles said.

The cravat was easily dealt with and the shirt buttons opened smoothly. It revealed pale skin and smooth muscle which Robin wanted to touch and explore. He pushed the shirt off Charles's shoulders and dropped to his knees to deal with his stockings. Rolling them down and off, he discarded one after the other and turned his attention to the breeches.

Robin's heart beat harder as he slowly unlaced the heavy material and eased it aside. He remembered Charles's words and leaned closer to lick and nibble over the skin as it was exposed. He smiled at Charles's stifled moan. He still had some element of surprise, then. As the last of the cloth dropped to the floor, Robin grasped Charles's hips with both hands, taking his cock in his mouth and working it slowly deeper. Charles tangled his hands in Robin's hair and urged him further down.

Robin found it unexpectedly arousing, being on his knees for this man. His own cock was hard between his thighs; he wanted to touch it. Pushing his own arousal aside, he concentrated on pleasing Charles. He swirled his tongue round the head before pushing deeper, sucking hard. Pulling back to breath, he mouthed against the head of Charles's cock, flicking his tongue over the sensitive skin.

Charles tugged him up, pulling him close and kissing him again. They stumbled towards the bed and Robin landed on his back. Charles urged him further up onto it and they rolled and squirmed, skin rubbing satisfyingly together, until they were in the middle. Charles reached under one of the pillows and came back with a small bottle of oil.

"You're prepared," said Robin, breathlessly.

"Yes," said Charles. "But, even though you enjoy my command, you are not here on my command, are you?"

Robin shook his head and closed his eyes as Charles's slick fingers slid between his cheeks, searching out his entrance. Charles was a prince, Robin was foolishly in love with what was sure to be a dream, but he was here willingly. He wanted this, had wanted it since he first laid eyes on Charles. He bit his lip to stifle a moan as Charles slid two fingers inside and began to stretch him open.

His eyes flew open as Charles pulled back to slick his own cock. His eyes ranged over the pale skin, shoulders just lightly freckled, chest dusted with hair. As Charles moved forward, Robin opened his legs wider, thighs sliding up round Charles's hips. He shoved his hand in his mouth to muffle a groan as Charles opened him up, cock easing inside. It was the most exquisite torture; a touch of pain overlaying the pleasure, making it better.

Then Charles thrust, and Robin gasped, clutching at Charles's shoulders and bringing him closer. They moved together, kissing and biting softly, hands moving over each other's skin. Robin loved the feeling of being overwhelmed by lust, of being overwhelmed by this man. When Charles pinned his hands and held him down, the better to thrust harder and faster, Robin arched up, letting him have his way.

He was close, and knew that Charles was too. He could tell by the salty taste of his skin, the way his hands trembled and gripped harder around Robin's wrists. His thrusts became faster; he muffled a groan in the skin of Robin's throat. Then Robin started to come, body tightening and mind focussed on the pleasure he felt. He bit his lip to keep from crying out as Charles fucked him savagely through his orgasm before finding his own.

Slowly, Robin found he had control of breathing again. Charles murmured something and moved away, leaving him sweaty and still boneless. A cloth landed on his stomach; he took it and cleaned himself up. He felt lighter, fucked out and too languid to care much about the future. Charles stretched out next to him and they rested. Tracing random patterns on Robin's stomach, Charles seemed content for him to be there.

At last, Robin felt himself becoming sleepy and roused himself to get up. It would never do to be found in the Prince's bed. He could only imagine what John would say to that indiscretion. Charles watched him, taking hold of his wrist as Robin looked around the room. Shifting his gaze down, Robin found Charles examining the marks there.

"Faith, and it's a good thing I wear ruffles," he said.

"But I shall know they're there," replied Charles.

"Indeed," agreed Robin. "And shall the thought please you?" For a moment, Robin thought Charles was going to tumble him back down onto the bed and kiss him again. He would have gone willingly. This was a lust that needed more to slake it, now that Robin had tasted it.

"Yes, it shall please me," replied Charles. "Until the next time I have you in my bed and can apply myself to the agreeable task of making more."

Robin's heart soared. Again? Faith, this may be dangerous and foolish, and all the things he'd been warned against, but he couldn't care. "I will look forward to the encounter," he said. Charles grinned and stretched, letting go of Robin's hand.

"As will I," he agreed. Robin dressed himself, conscious of Charles's eyes on him from the bed. As he slipped back down the hallway to his own little room at the back of the house, sped on his way with a kiss, he thought of what John would say to the bruises on his wrists in the morning. He smiled wickedly. A dream, an interlude, was all this could be, but he pushed aside such thoughts for the morning. He would enjoy his madness until the dream faded.


End file.
